


Fix one, break another

by Glue_the_Grue



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-15
Updated: 2012-09-15
Packaged: 2017-11-14 06:12:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/512173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glue_the_Grue/pseuds/Glue_the_Grue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short fic for Spike, she wanted something sad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fix one, break another

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lucky_spike](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucky_spike/gifts).



Ever since he woke up in the mansion, something had felt off.

It wasn’t hard to see why, what with most of his body having been changed to robotic prostheses, even part of his own brain. Slick still isn’t sure how that Hussie guy managed it, but Ms. Paint always said he was a genius, if a bit weird. Ms. Paint herself was quite different from the strange man, short and friendly and down-to-earth. He found her charming, in a way. Definitely different than he was used to, from dames. All the nice ones were usually too scared to even come near a guy like him, so he’d gotten all the floozies and gold-diggers, and of course he had her. The Queen who ruled his putrid, rotting soul.

But she was gone now, he always had to remind himself, looking at Ms. Paint’s smiling face as she brought him soup or asked him some inconsequential question, just to get him to talk.

Slick rather liked her.

He’d say they only grew closer after Hussie’s murder, having to take care of each other in the strange mansion. He swore to protect her, from English, and from anyone else who would dare to try and hurt her.

So Slick went through the den, looking through Hussie’s desk and everywhere else to find some kind of book or manual that described how Hussie had fixed him.

He didn’t want to be just fixed, now. He wanted to be better.  
And soon enough he found something, a small manual that described how to hook Slick up to a machine sitting in the corner of the laboratory, the gibberish giving Slick the sense that this is the improvement he had been looking for.

Ms. Paint had been worried, of course. How could he be sure the machine worked, without Hussie here? But he just told her he had gotten this far without dying, so he wouldn’t let a silly machine take him out, shooting her a sly grin before hooking himself up.

It was painful, and he was sure he was crying by the end, but he felt a hand caress his face, and he let himself fall into unconsciousness, knowing she wouldn’t let him die.

He awakens to a quiet room, the beeping from the machine the only thing he can hear. He calls out weakly, wondering if Ms. Paint had left to retrieve something. He lies there for what feels like forever, still too shaky to get up, calling out every once in awhile and still getting no answer. He eventually smacks the machine in anger and worry, the beeping noise aggravating him. It coughs and sputters before whirring to life, a mechanical voice listing off some medical jargon Slick could hardly understand. Except for one bit that caught his ear.

“Subject should no longer experience hallucinations of any kind.”


End file.
